Hay Fever
by Fortune Maiden
Summary: Nanao is always at his best. Even when he's sick. [Happy Kiss fic] [Starring: Wakura Nanao & Dougo Ichiro]


**Hay Fever**

 _Nanao is always at his best. Even when he's sick._

* * *

It's by 4th period that the lights begin to feel too bright and black vertigo spots cloud his already watery vision. His mask remains perfect, but mentally he kicks himself for letting things get so bad, and it's all he can do not to sigh in relief when Taiju places a plastic water bottle on his desk during the next break.

"You look awful," he says simply. "Go home."

The cool water is a relief for his dry aching throat, though Nanao wishes he could pour scalding tea down instead.

"I'm surprised you noticed," he replies.

"I think everyone's noticed by now." Sure enough Nanao catches a few concerned pairs of eyes in his direction. He smiles at them, and they quickly turn away.

"I must be losing my touch," he laments. "I guess I will take a break."

"I'll make a copy of my notes for you."

"Thanks Taiju," Nanao says, slides his notebook into his bag and stands up. The world takes a moment to right itself.

"If you don't mind, try to keep your kids out of trouble today."

"I'll see what I can do." Taiju gives his shoulder a supportive squeeze. "Get some rest."

* * *

"You don't have a fever," Hara-sensei says gently, reading the thermometer. "How do you feel?"

"It's just allergies," Nanao says coolly. His head pounds, his eyes water, and his nose threatens to turn into a waterfall at any moment, but he hopes his smile is reassuring. "Spring's arrival has been a little uneven this year, so they caught me off guard."

Hara nods sympathetically and slides his chair to his desk where he reaches into a desk drawer for a blister pack of pills. At a glance, Nanao recognizes the cheap over-the-counter brand and sighs internally. Those won't do at all.

Hara seems to agree. "I'm afraid this is all I can give you," he explains and pops out two white pills into Nanao's palm. "They're not very strong, but they're non-drowsy and should relieve the worst symptoms. You can rest here for a bit to see if it helps. If not, I recommend heading home."

"Thank you," Nanao says and washes down the pills with the steadily emptying water bottle. Afterwards, he wanders over to the furthest bed and draws the curtain. "I'll take you up on that offer."

"I'll dim the lights to make it easier to rest," Hara tells him. "Feel better Wakura-kun."

The dimmed lights are a quicker remedy than the sugar pills, and Nanao draws in a deep congested breath before closing his eyes. He only has himself to blame. If not the fact that he was heating up his tea far more than necessary to combat a persistent itch in his throat, then Ryouma-kun's bright red nose the previous day should have been an obvious warning.

As it is, he feels awful. The suggestion to head home feels more tempting by the minute, but Nanao is firm in his disciplines and decides to at least wait until lunchtime to see if any sympathetic classmates have better pills to share. In his mind, he quickly compiles a list of the worst hay fever-sufferers, and it's to this he finds himself slowly drifting off.

He doesn't quite fall asleep, but Hara-sensei's rhythmic pen strokes start to feel further away, and soon disappear completely. The perennial buzzing of the fluorescent lights remains, but even that soon disappears, replaced by the sound of squeaky shoes sliding across the tiled floors.

 _Hmm?_ Nanao cracks open a teary eye, then quickly shuts it as the brightness returns.

"Hey, Hara-sensei?" someone yells out. "Senseeeei?"

It's a familiar voice. Nanao sits up and lets the world come into focus once more. A quick glance at his phone reveals that no more than 10 minutes could have passed, and from his vantage point, he makes out the school doctor's desk, and the discarded pen on top of a small pile of papers.

The school doctor himself is nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Hara-sensei, are you here?" the intruder yells again. "I need your help."

"Good grief," Nanao mutters and wonders what deity cursed him with this luck. He presses the bases of his palms against his eyes to dry up the tears and forces himself to focus. Then he quickly runs his fingers through his hair to rid it of any matting, and stands up. The headache and sore throat are still there, but his mucus is securely in his nose, and the tears aren't coming back just yet, so it's as good as he'll get from those useless pills.

"Ichiro-kun," he says firmly and steps out from behind the curtain. "It's improper to yell in the infirmary. Now, calm down and tell me what happened."

"Oh Nanao-senpai!"

Ichiro, clad in a white t-shirt and shorts, whirls around to face him, and immediately brightens. Nanao doesn't need any further explanation once he notices the bright red gash on his left knee, or the dark dry blood swipes all over his leg.

"Phys Ed?" It explains the gym clothes.

"Yeah, we were playing baseball and I dived for the home plate like _Whoosh_ ," Ichiro explains enthusiastically. "We got the point, but I scraped my knee a bit in the process. It doesn't hurt or anything, but apparently the gym teacher's afraid of blood. Who knew!"

"There does appear to have been a good amount of blood," Nanao eyes the dried streaks. "I take it you were sent here to get patched up then."

"Yeah, Sensei insisted."

"As he should," Nanao sighs. Part of him is surprised that Ichiro came alone—he would have expected Taishi to tag along—but it seems that whatever deity he'd offended still held some sympathy for him.

Really, with how energetic Ichiro was, Nanao had half a mind to kick him out and go back to sleep, but already he moves to get the water bottle from his bag. He then grabs a few paper towels from a nearby tray and empties what's left of the water bottle on them.

"Here. There's blood all over your leg. And probably your hands as well." Ichiro looks down and immediately (and loudly) grows flustered. As he scrubs his leg clean furiously, Nanao looks around and acknowledges with a "tsk" that the kind school doctor really has disappeared somewhere.

It's not too difficult to figure out where everything is at least. Rubber gloves are on the tray, cotton balls are on the desk, rubbing alcohol is in the medicine cabinet, and bandages are in the desk drawers. As Nanao gathers up the materials, he also accepts that Hara-sensei hadn't just been hiding behind pesky school regulations earlier—there really were no stronger allergy medications available.

At least Ichiro's banter gives him something to focus on besides his hay fever. He seats him on the stool he'd used himself earlier, and takes Hara's chair for himself.

"Hold still," Nanao tells him, and dabs the cotton ball in disinfectant, before pressing it against Ichiro's knee. He jerks back.

"That hurts," Ichiro cries out.

"Ah, yes, this'll sting a bit," Nanao tells him with a not-particularly-apologetic smile. "Sorry, Ichiro-kun."

"N-no, it's fine. Just give me a warning next time." Ichiro's cheeks flush in embarrassment and he scoots the stool towards Nanao once again. He shudders when then soaked cotton ball touches his knee again, but this time he stays still as Nanao cleans the injury up.

"Good boy," Nanao chuckles and neatly tapes the bandage over the scrape. It's a pity they aren't in elementary school anymore, or he could have picked out something with a cute pattern. "Off you go now."

Ichiro jumps off the stool and bends his knee a few times as if to test it out. "Awesome, thanks!" He is almost out the door, when Nanao sees the proverbial lightbulb finally go off.

"Huh, Nanao-senpai?" he turns back to Nanao in confusion. "I didn't know you were Hara-sensei's assistant."

"Oh?" For a moment, Nanao isn't quite sure how to respond.

"That's really cool, Senpai!" Ichiro's eyes shine. "You're like the school's very own Florence Nightingale."

 _No._ Nanao's headache is a little too strong for this. "Ichiro-kun," he says with the faintest trace of exasperation, "is that really what you think I'm doing in the infirmary _in the middle of class_?"

"Huh?" Ichiro considers it, and indeed there is a bit of a flaw in his logic. The lightbulb flickers a bit for a few moments, and then realization dawns. "Woah Nanao-senpai, you're sick?"

Nanao isn't sure if he's imagining it, but Ichiro sounds more amazed than concerned to his ears. However, he's quick to follow it up with a more panicked, "Are you alright? You should lie down."

It's the panic that makes it a little hard to resist.

"Oh yes," he says, trying to sound as weak as possible. "I'm afraid I'm a victim of a certain chronic disease that tends to act up around this time of year." He dabs at his eyes in a theatrical motion to appear miserable (and to also quickly wipe away the real tears that were starting to form again) and throws in a fake cough for good measure. "I'm afraid it's gotten the better of me this time."

Nanao has a few more good lines prepared, but Ichiro's face has gone completely pale, and he looks seconds away from either crying or running off to tell Taishi and the others.

Or both.

"Allergies, Ichiro-kun," Nanao says simply. "It's pollen season."

He can see the comprehension.

"Oh—Oh!" Ichiro nods thoughtfully. "Wow, so even you get allergies Nanao-senpai."

Again, to Nanao's ears, he sounds more excited than concerned (or even relieved). "I am human, you know."

"Of course, I know!" Ichiro stammers. "It's just that you don't look it at all. Sick, I mean. Ryouma-senpai looked like he was dying yesterday."

"I try my best," Nanao sighs as he remembers poor Ryouma-kun again. In the back of his mind, he hopes he wasn't too cruel towards his ailing junior yesterday. He knew very well how awful allergies could be, and karma is a harsh mistress. "You don't get allergies, do you Ichiro-kun."

"Nope."

"Savor it."

"Yes!" Ichiro straightens up as if he were replying to a military officer, but then his posture loosens and he looks over Nanao cautiously. "You're really feeling awful, aren't you Senpai?"

"I've been better."

"Is there anything I can do? Oh, the lights were dimmed before, weren't they? I'll turn them off!" Ichiro does so before Nanao can say anything. The darkness is welcome though.

"Let's see, what else… Do you need any medicine? Half the school's suffering right? I'll go find someone with meds!"

"That's not necessary, Ichiro-kun. I already took something earlier." That Nanao plans to ask around himself later is irrelevant. While Ichiro's concern for him is touching, it also borders on smothering, and Nanao's patience is shot too thin for that at the moment.

"Are you sure?" Ichiro asks.

"I'm sure," he says firmly. "The best medicine for me right now is rest, so you should run back to class. You need to get changed soon anyway."

"Yeah, you're right." His kind offer to help rejected, Ichiro's shoulders droop. But he's always been quick to recover, and this time is no different. "But I have to say Nanao-senpai, you look amazing. Not a hair out of place."

"Thank you."

"I'm just, like, trying to imagine you sick with, like, a snot-streaked nose, and bugged-out eyes and—Nanao-senpai?"

Nanao's smile is pleasant. He walks over to Ichiro and places a hand on top of his head, gently ruffling his hair.

"Oh Ichiro-kun, I really am glad you turned out to be so cheerful and straightforward," he says happily. Ichiro instantly reddens, but he doesn't get the chance to fully process the half-compliment before there is a sharp painful tug on his ear.

"Now we just have to teach you some tact."

* * *

 **AN:** (Oh hey, I _can_ write something without it turning into 4K words of banter!)

Thanks for reading! I wasn't planning to write anything for Happy Kiss for a while since I'm still getting a feel for the characters' voices, but then Episode 4 happened and Ichiro's 'Notice me Senpai!' towards Nanao was too adorable. And then I got to experience the joys of seasonal allergies for the first time and needed an outlet. So this happened ^^"

I hope it's still an okay first attempt at Happy Kiss characters! As always, feedback is greatly loved and appreciated!


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